


This is MY House

by FollowerofMercy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Brotp, Drill Sergeant Grillby, Gen, Good W. D. Gaster, Grillby POV, Grumpy Old Men, Hope, Hope vs. Despair, Medieval, Mentor Grillby, Military, Military Background, Old Age and Yelling, Platonic Grillster - Freeform, Pre-Canon, Protective Grillby, Quartermaster Grillby, Rebuilding, Royalty that actually does stuff, Scientist W. D. Gaster, The Barrier, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr Rec, Veteran Grillby, W. D. Gaster Being An Asshole, W. D. Gaster Making Up for Being An Asshole, Wartime, Young W. D. Gaster, Youth and Exuberance, gen - Freeform, pre-game, young Gaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 02:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14823932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FollowerofMercy/pseuds/FollowerofMercy
Summary: Quartermaster Grillby has his hands full as the monsters lose the War. Babysitting an arrogant skeleton is the last thing he wants to do.





	This is MY House

**Author's Note:**

> Little story for then00breturns on Tumblr. The prompt was enemies to lovers Grillster, but given the circumstances, a romantic relationship didn't seem appropriate. Have a platonic mentor/mentee relationship instead!

Quartermaster Grillby shouldered open the door to the officer’s dining hall, greeted by his comrades, the head of the royal guard, King Asgore himself and… a smug little skeleton. He shrugged and raised his platter of drinks, careful not to ignite the alcohol with his hair, to a chorus of cheers and smiles.

Grillby sat at the only available place after passing out drinks, between Harold the camp blacksmith and the new skeleton. As soon as Grillby settled, Asgore stood and raised his glass.

“Howdy, friends!”

His voice rattled the skeleton’s silverware, the only person that hadn’t picked them up to avoid the vibrations. He scrambled to stop the noise.

“Thank you for welcoming us so warmly! It’s always a pleasure to meet the recruits and show them my appreciation, and to enjoy this wondrous food. Unfortunately, I can’t come just for pleasantries. As I’m sure you know, I’m here for the monthly morale boost, and I also come with a mission for you all.”

The assembled monsters perked up as he continued. “If it’s not too much trouble, Dr. Verdana’s son, Mister WingDings here, will join you as resident scientist until the end of the month. Is that alright?”

The officers voiced their consent, not with great enthusiasm, but not miserable. Grillby sighed, not having any particular fondness for the royal scientist or her spawn. Still, the boy might surprise him.

“Excellent! Thank you!” Asgore continued. “During his time here, Mister WingDings is to put his designing skills to good use. He has some ideas for, uh, for the fortifications, housing, armor– “

“And armaments against the humans!” WingDings interrupted, meeting the officers’ frigid silence.

Well the kid surprised him. Interrupting the King took either serious stones or stupidity.

“Ah…” he trailed off, looking back to Asgore for direction. Instead of admonishing him for overstepping, the King nodded encouragingly.

Grillby felt his tiny spark of hope wither and die, replaced by cold cynicism. Business as usual.  

“I designed some handheld cannons, useable by anyone with limbs, that will punch right through a human’s flesh and ignore their Defense! I have three fully functional prototypes so far, and with your help, we can get enough to supply all our troops by the end of the year,” WingDings said, grinning like a fool.

Before anyone could respond to the ridiculous timeframe, Asgore set his paw on the boy’s shoulder and lowered him back to his seat.  “Yes, anyway, we can discuss the details later. For now,” Asgore clapped his paws together, “let’s enjoy this delicious feast Sir Grillby has prepared! I don’t know about any of you, but I’m starving.”

Once Asgore sat down, the officers raised their glasses to Grillby and dug in.

\--

“Mmphm, you really outdid yourself, Sir Grillby,” Asgore said, brushing crumbs out of his beard with a cloth. “A wonderful home-cooked meal like this does wonders for the Soul after so many days of rations.”

“ _It’s nothing, my King.”_ He never would understand why Asgore fawned over his cooking. He made it greasy and fatty, good for tired troops in cold winters, but nothing special.

 

 

“Yeah, it’s good,” WingDings said as he scooted a piece of roast around his plate, chin in hand. “You made this?”

“ _Mmhm.”_

“Huh.” WingDings glanced sidelong at him, his sockets naturally empty, just like his mother. It made it hard to tell which way he was looking. “And… what do you do, exactly?”

“ _I am the Quartermaster.”_

“Oh,” he said, clearly not understanding.

After a few moments, Harold tossed his head back and swallowed his entire steak to show off his teeth, many broken in fights. “So, WingDings.”

The skeleton blinked at the teeth. “Gaster, please.”

Harold licked the grease off his lips, long tongue probing the gaps in his smile. He extended one of many tentacles to brush the skeleton’s arm, careful not to jostle Grillby, and propped half on the table. “Aright, _Gaster,_ tell me about those cannons.”

“Oh, I will explain once everyone has finished eating! I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” Gaster said and winked. Grillby rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his drink, listening to less inane conversation elsewhere at the table.

\--

A few recruits came in to clean up the dishes, whispering to themselves and smiling at Asgore. His big face crinkled with joy as he thanked them and he laughed when they bowed. They scurried off without a glance at Gaster and only absent comments to their superiors, giddy and bouncy. Once everything had been cleared save for the drinks, Asgore leaned back and gestured for Gaster to speak. He stood, swept his robe out and cleared his nonexistent throat.

“Good afternoon, gentlemonsters! Like I said earlier, I’ve been working on some weapons that will help against the humans. Allow me to explain: They’re very simple, just a mechanism that uses a monster’s innate magic to fire a projectile at high speeds, completely removing the monster’s intent and Attack from the equation. Now as I’m sure you all know – ” he began.

 _And as I’m sure you’re going to overexplain anyway,_ Grillby thought.

“ – a monster’s ability to injure is directly related to their intent to kill and their enemy’s indifference. This is a big issue with our recruits who are trying to fight seasoned humans, and even with our veterans. After a certain point, humans become near-impossible to kill through magical means.”

Agnes, head of recruit training, nodded, as did the other officers. Grillby blinked and grudgingly paid more attention. He never expected anything practical out of Verdana’s boy, just more stargazing and bureaucracy.

“I have designed a hand-held cannon-like device. All a monster has to do is hit the conversion pin with a bullet.” Gaster used his hands to trace lines in the air, then slammed his fist into his other palm to demonstrate his point. “The conversion pin uses the energy from the bullet to make a small explosion by heating tiny dust particles in the air. This launches a _physical_ bullet through purely mechanical means, completely independent from the user’s magical strength or intent. It attacks not the Soul of a human, but their weaker body!”

Asgore squirmed in his chair, coming back to life after his eyes had glazed over for the bulk of the explanation. No doubt he had heard this speech dozens of times already.

“I brought several conversion pins with me, as well as my prototypes. Like I said earlier, we should have all of our recruits outfitted with these by the end of the month. I don’t want to bore you with the technical details. Now, are there any questions?”

Metzergerhund, head of the royal guard, raised his paw from behind Asgore. His ears were back and his eyes narrowed. “Have you tested them yet?”

“Not yet, but I promise they’re perfectly functional.” Gaster waved the black dog monster off. “Anyone else?”

Agnes changed from beaming to scowling. “Are the weapons safe? The kiddos have to fight humans, they don’t need their gear blowing up in their faces.”

“I assure you, my guns will work fine,” Gaster said, irritation creeping into his voice.

“Do you have one with you?” Harold asked. Gaster perked up and pulled a gorgeous device from his bag, all dark wood and silver inlay. Harold turned it over and prodded it with his dozens of tentacles, then glared up at Gaster. Impressive, considering he lacked eyes.

“This’ll jam as soon as it gets wet.”

Gaster snorted. “No it won’t.”

“Boy, listen, all the movey bits are wood. Wood expands when it gets wet, and I dun’ think it’s safe to hold a ‘small explosion’ in a chamber that’ll change size so much.”

“Those ‘movey bits’ don’t have to be as precise as you might think, Mr., um, who are you, anyway?”

Grillby gestured to a recruit to get him another drink. He’d need it.

Harold wiggled the barrel of the gun. “Name’s Harold. I’ve been supplying the troops with weapons for decades.  I’ve seen a lot of weird shit cobbled together before. I mean, it’s pretty, and an interesting idea, but it needs work,” he said and offered the prototype to Grillby. He held up a hand, then Harold passed it to the monster on his left.

Gaster pouted, nasal bone wrinkled and a slight sneer. “Well, if we just field test a few-“

“No.”

The overseer of the camp had the gun and stared Gaster down with her one eye. “You are welcome to help us with other projects and to work more on this, but you will not test unknown equipment on our people.”

The boy balled his fists on the table, eyes wide in disbelief and jaw clenched. “But-“

“But nothing. The safety of our troops is paramount, isn’t that right Your Majesty?”

Asgore glanced around the room with a pained smile. “Absolutely. WingDings, Commander Lil has a point. Perhaps you can build another… prototype, and test it safely?”

Gaster narrowed his eyes, nodded and sat down. “Thank you for your time,” he muttered, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

Once the skeleton finished his small tantrum, Asgore blinked and clapped his paws together, voice a little too high pitched. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled! Mister Gaster will stay with you all and help out while I continue my rounds. An entourage will come at the end of the month to bring him back to the Capitol.”  He stood. “Thank you all again so much for dinner, it was lovely. Now I must go prepare tomorrow’s speech.”

The officers and Gaster stood, bowing to King Asgore as he retired to his tent. Metzergerhund followed directly behind. Grillby tapped the sullen skeleton on the shoulder, not waiting for a response.

“ _Your quarters are this way.”_

After showing the boy around camp, “ _Here’s the well, mess hall, training grounds, Harold’s forge,”_ Grillby ditched him in the tent reserved for important visitors and returned to his more important duties.

 

\---

 

They only had him a week before the incident.

Grillby escorted the injured monster to the infirmary, a cat monster whose face had been completely blackened from the explosion. Agnes had collected the other two monsters involved and one bystander for questioning while Lil started damage control on the affected area. They straightened things out within the hour: Harold confiscated the gun prototypes to figure out what went wrong and Lil confined the skeleton to his quarters until further notice. Once the fires were extinguished and Gaster’s groupies reprimanded, Lil called the officers for a meeting.

In the same room where Asgore made his announcement, Agnes kicked her feet up on the long table. “So the kids spilled. Gaster promised the prototypes would work fine and took them for testing in our own firing range, where they blew up spectacularly. Idiot didn’t even go outside the camp.”

“What did you do with the recruits?” Lil asked.

“Eh, not much. I told ‘em to only take orders from military and don’t listen to random dumbass scientists.”

Lil raised an eyebrow.

“…In better words than that.”

“Good. Any punishment?”

Agnes shrugged. “Just sent them to bed without dinner, nothin’ severe. To be fair, they thought Dingus was military.”

“Excellent.” Lil turned to the rest of the officers. “Now, what will we do about Mister Gaster? I don’t want to be the one to get his mother in here and pitch a fit.”

“Eat him?” Harold offered.

“Unfortunately, no,” Lil said through the group’s chuckles. “Any other suggestions? Grillby? You look like you have something to say.”

Grillby did not have anything he wanted to say. Today had been a mess. Rations were short and people kept reminding him, a third of his staff were on duty elsewhere due to scheduling mistakes, he had always liked the kid that got hurt – a little weird, but a hard worker, someone had rigged a water bucket to prank someone else and he nearly got drenched, termites got into the fancy mahogany chips his brother sent and now the little dipshit skeleton wasted even _more_ of their time by being politically difficult to discipline. So he really had a lot to say, but chose not to.

And now everyone was staring at him. Great.

He tried to pull his flames closer to his core and stop emitting so much heat, for the flammable table and the nearby monsters’ sakes. “ _I can yell at him. He won’t do this again.”_

Lil frowned. “…Do you think that is wise?”

“ _It’s the right thing to do. Nobody ever told that boy ‘no’ before. Just blame me if it gets back to Verdana. I don’t mind.”_

“Anyone else? Thoughts?” She looked around the room.  

The rest of the officers shrugged or assented.

“Alright then. Good luck, Grillby. Let me know if there is any trouble, and if things go poorly, I will not throw you to Verdana alone.” Lil smiled and stood. “Back to work and keep me updated.”

As the rest of the officers filed out, Harold snickered and clapped Grillby on the back. “Lemme know how it goes. Git a good look at his face, k?”

“ _Mm.”_

 

\---

 

Grillby shed his coat and stalked through the halls in just a vest and shorts, leaving as much of his surface exposed as decency allowed. He stoked his flames brighter and hotter with each step, sending curious monsters scurrying for cover.

Good thing he had a long walk to Gaster’s quarters.

His surface expanded and pulled away from his core as he walked, billowing out around his clothes and doubling his volume. By the time he arrived, nobody could look at him. He took the vest off, exposing his now-white core and adding more oxygen to the fire. The bulk of his surface burned yellow and orange while his extremities faded to cherry red and his hair had exploded into a boiling mane of color.

Once good and worked up, he kicked the door in.

“ _ALRIGHT DIPSHIT.”_

Gaster whipped around, the irritation on his face instantly replaced with terror. Tiny eyelights appeared, set deep within his skull and constricted to pinpricks. Grillby took a large step and slammed the door behind him.

“ _DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DID.”_

Gaster stood there slack-jawed. Grillby’s voice was the deafening bellow of a house fire, so hot that the air shimmered around him. He didn’t wait for the boy to respond.

“ _YOU PUT A PERFECTLY GOOD SOLDIER OUT OF COMMISION. YOU PUT **MY** SOLDIER OUT OF COMMISSION.”_

Grillby took a step forward. Gaster took two steps back.

“ _You disobeyed direct orders from your supervisor. You disobeyed orders from KING ASGORE. Real soldiers are imprisoned for less! Not only that, YOU CRIPPLED A KID.”_

“ _YOU blinded a perfectly good soldier. You think your mother is overprotective? THAT BOY’S PARENTS WILL COME FOR YOUR BLOOD.”_

The room swam in the light. The swirling heat shimmers and echoing roar caused Gaster to overbalance and clutch his desk to keep from spilling onto the floor. His eyelights expanded and contracted spastically, trying to focus on anything in the chaos.

Grillby advanced. “ _Do you think WE’LL protect you? Why? We’re being slaughtered by the humans and you’re HELPING THEM.”_

Gaster’s mouth moved but no sound came out, swallowed by the noise of the fire. Tears stood out in his sockets.

“ _What you did today was grossly irresponsible. You PLANNED this knowing the risks, but you’re too damn ARROGANT to act like a proper adult. This is grounds for discharge, boy, grounds for OFFICERS TO GET DISCHARGED. Do you think YOU’RE above consequences?! A snot-nosed, rankless, punkass kid?!”_

Grillby towered over him, then knelt to whisper, “ _We’re losing this war, boy, and we can’t afford screw-ups like you. Either make sure this never happens again or go home. Do you understand me?”_

Only the crinkle of burning paper and Gaster’s rattling disturbed the new silence. Grillby set his hand on Gaster’s shoulder, the skeleton’s entire frame shaking, and leaned closer.

“ ** _DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!”_**

“Y-yes!”

“ _YES WHAT?”_

The tears finally rolled down Gaster’s cheekbones. _“_ YES YOUR MAJESTY SIR!”

He was crying too hard to notice the mistake. Grillby let him sniffle for a moment longer before he patted his shoulder and straightened, his fire dying down to a reasonable state.

“ _Good,”_ he said at normal volume. “ _Report to Commander Lil once you clean up.”_

With that, Grillby spun on his heel and let himself out, leaving Gaster to huddle in his corner.

 

\--

 

Gaster left with the next supply caravan.

Commander Lil had some words for Grillby, mostly thanks, and they threw together a plan of action in case Verdana decided to come after them. It proved unnecessary as the war effort demanded everyone’s attention, even the Royal Scientist’s.

Harold pestered Grillby for the next few days about the details, to which he gave boring answers. He attractedgossipers like moths to an utterly disinterested candle. Beyond that, the officers shrugged off the inconsequential skeleton and went about their routine.  

Supplies grew scarce, though it didn’t give Grillby as much trouble as it should’ve. They sent soldiers out with less and less training, effectively throwing bodies at the humans, and the turnover rate meant resources lasted longer than ever.

He hated it.

Asgore stopped coming until a few months later, when he led a flood of the injured to their little camp. Toriel joined them, as well as the surviving generals, the scattered armies and civilian masses. The Ebott training camp overflowed into the countryside as it seemed the entire monster race fled for shelter.

Grillby didn’t see much of Lil, Harold or Agnes in the following days, or even his brother and sister when they arrived. He didn’t do much other than cobble together arrangements for the refugees, organize hunting parties, anything to keep his people fed and comfortable until the end.

 

He saw a human up close for the first time in a long, long while.

 

And then his job was done, for a day. The King and Queen surrendered. He followed them under the mountain with the rest of the monsters, a comforting warmth in a sea of shock. After a day’s march, he didn’t falter as the shadow of the cave passed over him, just flushed a little brighter for the sake of his neighbors.

He used the time as a vacation of sorts. He was lucky; his family was safe, most of his friends were safe, the war was over… all he had to do was turn his brain off and follow the monster in front of him.

It worked until he felt the rush of magic and screaming from behind. The sunlight dimmed, blocked by a barrier of pulsing, human magic. The people panicked until King Asgore and Queen Toriel could restore order, directed them deeper into the mountain, away from their wardens. So began the stampede to their new Home, and so Grillby’s vacation ended.

He paid attention to the edible plants they passed on their haphazard charge into the belly of the earth, memorized the location of sheltered caves and flowing water. The biomes changed as he took headcounts and estimated the number of wounded, how many people he needed to feed, how many blankets and bandages, where to send scouting parties, everything to keep the monsters from falling into despair.

 

They built Home in record time.

During the first hectic month, Grillby saw the Gaster boy around from time to time, working on puzzles to keep the humans at bay. It was nice seeing a familiar face, especially after watching the young recruits disappear by the cartload. They never spoke until the monsters carved out a cramped, modest nest for themselves, when things no longer threatened to fall apart at the slightest breath.  

Grillby woke to a nervous figure at his tent. He rolled off his comfy rock and stretched, then stepped out to meet his guest.

“H-hello, Sir Grillby.” The skeleton wrung his hands and rattled softly.

“ _…Gaster.”_ Grillby looked the boy up and down, arms crossed. The right side of his skull had been caved in and poorly stuck back together. Someone carved a fissure from his left eye to his upper jawline, taking a few teeth with it. It hurt to look at.

“H-hi,” he repeated when Grillby said nothing more.

Grillby leaned against the side of the cavern wall, flickering exhausted reds and oranges. “ _Hello. It’s… good to see you alive and well.”_

“Oh, really?” An eyelight popped to life in Gaster’s intact socket, mixed confusion and happiness on his face.

“ _Not many people made it out of the capitol.”_ A shame, really. Most of the academic types had settled there. Half the monsters left couldn’t read or write, much less do the math needed for the finer parts of city building.

Gaster chuckled and gestured at his face, though his voice shook. “Ah, yeah… it was bad. But it’s… it’s good to see you too!”

Grillby smiled and took a deep breath. “ _I’m glad. Is your mother around?”_

Gaster’s forced energy drained away, replaced by the hollow, crushing grief of loss. Grillby’s heart went out to the poor boy.

“Mom… Mom’s gone. I, ha… I’m the royal scientist now?” Gaster choked out a laugh and hugged himself, leaning on the wall for support. Grillby flickered with sympathetic warmth.

“Anyway, uh, Sir Grillby, I the real reason… I really came here to… uhhh…” he trailed off and picked at his hands.

“ _I’m listening.”_

Gaster took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I… after the gun accident at Ebott, I’m sorry I ran away. I couldn’t handle messing up that badly, and you, and you’re the only person that’s ever yelled at me like that? Ever? People keep telling me I’m a genius and brilliant, and yeah, I’m good at abstract stuff and physics and applied magic, but I don’t know how to do any of this!” He waved his hands at the ceiling yawning above and people milling about. “I don’t want to bother King Asgore or Queen Toriel but I don’t know how to keep these puzzles safe for us but able to keep humans out. I… I want to do my job right.”

He balled his fists and lowered his head. “Th-that’s why I need you. You were right. I don’t really know what to do without Mom and I’m s-stupid and you probably hate my metaphorical guts but- “

Grillby interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder. Gaster’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

“ _Gaster, I don’t hate you.”_

The skeleton blinked and looked up.

“ _I yelled at you so you’d stop being a stupid shit and grow up.”_

“…Oh.”

“ _Which it seems like you did.”_

Gaster’s petrified expression softened at the corners. “I don’t feel grown up.”

“ _It’s alright. It’ll come.”_ Grillby gave his frail shoulder a squeeze and let him go. “ _I’m busy myself, but I will help you when I can.”_

Tears of relief welled in Gaster’s eyes as he smiled. “Th-thank y- “

“ _No, stop that.”_

“What?”

 _“That.”_ Grillby swatted at the tears. “ _Calm down. You can’t go crying every time I talk to you, Christ.”_

Gaster flinched back at the swat, though he giggled at Grillby’s tone. “Ok, ok. But really, thank you. I need all the help I can get.”

“ _With that attitude, you’ll do just fine.”_

He waited until Gaster wiped away the last of the moisture before continuing. “ _Who else is helping you?”_

“Haaah, funny story. Remember the kid I blew up at Ebott?”

Grillby raised an eyebrow. 

“He’s… kinda creepy, but he and his friends have been following me around since we got trapped down here. They’ve been working with me on the puzzles and keeping the roof from collapsing.”

“ _He’s a good kid.”_

“Definitely. Once things calm down, I’m going to ask Queen Toriel about making him part of my team. Nobody else made it from… from Mom’s team.”

“… _I’m sorry.”_

“Eh,” Gaster tried to shrug. Instead, his shoulders hitched and he curled farther on himself. “Everyone lost someone.”

Silence stretched between them, Grillby dimming with the mood.

At length, Grillby cleared his throat and made a show of looking around Home. “ _Everything you’ve done so far looks great. Verdana would be proud.”_

 “Really?” Gaster shook off the sorrow, his eyelight returning.

“ _Yes.”_

“Thank you, really. I… oh dear I need to go, but really, thank you Sir Grillby.” Gaster held his hand out for an awkward handshake before darting off to an unlit portion of Home. “I’ll be back later today if you’re not busy!”

Grillby watched him disappear into the dark and smoothed his hair flames back, feeling a spark of hope well in his chest.

 

-

 

Seeing Gaster did him good. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, and much as he hated to admit, lonely. Reports and orders made up the past month’s conversation with very little leisure time. Normally he wouldn’t mind, he liked keeping to himself, but perhaps he wasn’t as ok with losing the War as he thought.

Gaster returned at the end of the day, once Grillby finished cooking dinner for himself and his neighbors. As soon as the skeleton crossed the threshold of his tent, Grillby shoved a bowl of thin stew in his hands.

“ _Eat. You’re too skinny.”_

 _“_ …Hello to you too? Thanks?”

Grillby flopped down on the box that served as his chair, desk and table with a mass of reports in one hand, a fistful of sawdust in the other. He ate and read simultaneously and otherwise ignored his guest.

“What’cha reading?”

“ _Food inventories.”_

 _“_ …Is that good?”

“ _Yeah.”_

Gaster sat forward expectantly, the tent silent save for his slurping and Grillby’s crackle. After five minutes or so, he slumped back and set his bowl down. “If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“ _No, stay and eat. I’m almost done.”_

By almost, he meant another half an hour.

Once Grillby set the last paper down, Gaster dispelled the magic he had been playing with and smiled. “How are you?”

“ _Fine. You?”_

“Also fine!”

“ _Good.”_

“Yep…”

He had forgotten how to make small talk. Instead, Grillby took the dishes to burn them clean, something to do with his hands. Gaster twiddled his thumbs together in the quiet before he let out a rattling breath.

“Sir Grillby?”

“ _Not in the military anymore. Just Grillby.”_

“…Ok Mister Grillby. Um, can I… ask you a stupid question?”

“ _You just did, and yes you may.”_ It made Gaster chuckle nervously.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Grillby paused in his work to stare at Gaster, squinting. “ _…You consider this nice?”_

Gaster laughed, a little hysteric, but genuine. “I mean compared to screaming at me in Ebott, yeah!”

“ _I was a drill sergeant before I was Quartermaster, boy. That’s what I do.”_ Grillby snorted, glad that Gaster had grown a personality.

“…A what?”

“ _Do you really not- My job was to yell at people, scare them straight.”_

 _“_ Ohhhh. You’re, um, good at it. Please don’t have kids. You’d traumatize them.”

Grillby sparked in mock offense. “ _It works!”_

 _“_ Mmhm. You’re pretty cold for a fire monster.”

Grillby finished the dishes and carried them back to their place, flicking Gaster in the back of the head as he passed.

“Ow!”

“ _That’s what you get.”_ He finished cleaning up and sat across from Gaster. “ _So, what do you need from me?”_

“A restraining order.”

“ _Noted. You can get one once we have a government again. Now be serious.”_

Gaster cleared his throat and smoothed down his robes, pulling a notepad out of his cloak. “Right. I can take care of the theoretical stuff, but you’re practical. I need someone to run ideas by for a stupid check. Just tell me what’s a bad idea and what sounds good. Is that alright?”

Grillby gave him a thumb up.

“O-kay! So,” he shuffled the papers. “All the aquatic monsters are stuck in that marshy place with all the waterfalls. What’d Asgore name it?”

“ _Waterfall.”_

“…”

“ _Yes, really.”_

Gaster rubbed his temple, a quiet squeak of bone on bone. “O… kay. Anyway. Right now they’re cut off from the rest of us. I was thinking about digging a canal from one of the rivers to here.”

“ _They’re not cut off. I send out supply parties almost daily to pick up the plants the aquatics harvest for us.”_

“Oh, really?”

“ _Mmhm. Good thinking though.”_ Give compliments where due, support the kid.

“Alrighty then. Uh. That’s taken care of I guess? Um… do I have anything else on Waterfall?”

“ _Do you know about the area there where trash washes down from the surface? It’s full of lumber and chaff.”_

 _“_ Oh, building materials?”

“ _Yes.”_

“Heck yeah! Oh this is so great I had no idea!”

_“It’s literal garbage.”_

_“_ But it’s OUR garbage now!”

They discussed plans for the rest of the night, pushing aside their worries in favor of working towards a better future. Gaster sketched out plans to chemically treat and recover twice as much lumber from Waterfall while Grillby set up a hesitant volunteer schedule, and they decided to grow some of the pine seeds that washed in with the trash. The trees would break the wind in the cold area just beyond the caverns and provide wood for future generations. They made plans for farming, expanding the caverns, providing housing for the masses, many grand ideas to make the Underground their own. But first, they’d build pitfall traps and puzzles at the edge of Home to protect against human invasion. Their foresight and brains were their only defense.

They never once talked about breaking the Barrier.

The Underground was safe and stuffed with children, the elderly and the battle-scarred. In the wake of the War, the sun seemed a fair trade for their lives. Nobody desired to leave just yet, an entire race of refugees. Yet even as they floundered in the dark, one thing stayed constant. They pulled together. They made plans, found families, put aside rivalries. They smiled at the darkness and the weight of the world bearing down on them, scared but confident, broken but not hopeless.

This was their Home.

Gaster left late that night, both monsters promising to meet early the next morning. The people looked up to the Royal Scientist and former Quartermaster. They had their work cut out for them, but together, they would make it.

This was THEIR house.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a standalone thing and really does not reflect my personal headcanons on what went down after the monsters lost the War. It was fun to write, though!


End file.
